Mantelpiece
by anwamane13
Summary: Burt loved every single picture on display. They told a story, his story. His family's story.


**Mantelpiece**

Burt poured coffee in a cup and walked to the window. It was a beautiful Sunday morning and Carole was still sleeping. He didn't have to wake up early on Sundays, but it was impossible for him to stay in bed after eight. Old habits die hard, and Burt had always woken up at six, back when there was only him and Kurt.

Carole usually worked on Saturdays, and Burt knew she loved to wake up late on Sundays. Since tossing and turning would eventually wake her up, he preferred to get up and go downstairs.

He looked at the street through the closed window. His neighbor was mowing the lawn, his younger son trailing happily behind him with his bike. Burt sighed, because the sight reminded him so much of him and Kurt, of a time when there was only him and his son, two valiant soldiers against the world, lost without Elizabeth's calming presence to guide them.

Life was good now, all things considered. So much had changed in the past ten years, and Burt was proud of the life he had now. He and Kurt had gone through hell and back, but since Carole, Finn and later Blaine, had come into their lives, Burt and Kurt had turned from lonely into happy men.

"Crap, the package!" he murmured to himself, leaving the cup on the coffee table and grabbing a brown package from the sofa. He'd brought it home the day before, but hadn't opened it yet. Kurt had sent him tons of pictures of his last play, all by email, but Burt was an old-fashioned guy, so he had gone to the shop and printed his favorite one, then he'd had it framed.

The mantelpiece was Burt's favorite place in the house. There were several pictures on the ledge and a few more on the wall, and even though some frames were old and needed to be replaced, Burt loved every single picture on display. They told a story, _his _story. His family's story. The mantelpiece was so full of pictures that there was almost no place for new ones, but Kurt and Finn – now a happily married man, living in LA with Rachel, of course - kept sending him snapshots of their lives, and every time they did, Burt couldn't resist: he framed his favorite one and put it on the ledge.

He ran his fingers on one of the pictures. Kurt and Blaine were smiling, while Kurt showed his left hand - where a silvery engagement ring could be seen. Blaine was beaming at the camera, and while Kurt had a smug expression, his eyes were shining so there was no doubt he was happy. A lot.

"_Blaine? What are you doing here in the kitchen? Dinner is almost - " _

"_Oh, God, I can't – I can't do this." Blaine looked at him, huge pleading eyes, hand clutching the velvet box._

"_Calm down, buddy," Burt patted Blaine's back. "If you're not sure about this…"_

"_It's not that, Burt; of course I'm sure!" Blaine started pacing in the kitchen. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time. But what if… what if he says no?"_

"_Are you kidding me? Kurt's crazy about you!"_

"_But he loves his career! What if he wants to focus on it now instead of – "_

"_Blaine, Kurt's been planning weddings since I can remember. I'm sure there is nothing he wants more in this world than to plan his own. Especially because he'll be marrying you."_

"_What if he thinks this is too much responsibility? What if he wants to wait?"_

"_Kurt _loves_ responsibility. You know that."_

"_But what if – "_

_Burt stepped in front of Blaine and out his hands on the young man's shoulders, making him stop. _

"_Listen to me," he said, serious, looking into Blaine's eyes. "That guy in the living room loves you more than anything in this world. He said these same words to me more than once. He will be thrilled to be your husband. Now man up, buddy; go there and ask him to marry you like you planned."_

_Blaine took a deep breath, and nodded at Burt. "He said he loves me?" he asked, so hopeful that it looked like he was hearing that for the first time._

"_As is you didn't know that already," Burt chuckled. "Now come on, it's Thanksgiving and Carole will want to serve dinner soon. Don't waste your chance. If Kurt starts drinking wine, you're going to propose to a tipsy guy."_

_Blaine nodded again and headed to the living room, Burt right behind him._

"_Kurt, can I have a word?" he said, taking Kurt's hand._

"_What is it, baby?" Kurt asked, frowning a little._

"_Come to the porch with me?" Blaine asked, tugging lightly at Kurt's hand._

_Kurt looked at Burt questioningly, but Burt just shrugged while the young man followed his boyfriend to the porch._

"_Honey?" Carole asked. "Shouldn't we go to the kitchen? To give them some privacy?" She already knew what was going to happen, Burt had told her as soon as Blaine asked for his advice._

"_Shhh…" Burt grimaced. "There's no way I'm losing this. Just… pretend you're not watching."_

"_How?" she gave a small laugh. "You think they can't see you? This door is made of _glass_, Burt." _

"_Alright, alright," he mumbled, and moved to the other side of the room, where he still had a pretty good view of the porch. "Go get the camera," he told her._

"_No way, if you're staying, I'm staying. I want to watch it too," Carole said fondly._

_Burt and Carole watched when Blaine kneeled on the floor in front of Kurt, opening the velvet box and starting to talk. They couldn't hear what he was saying, but his hands were trembling and he kept pausing a lot, as if searching for the right words._

_They watched when Kurt yelped and kneeled in front of Blaine, already crying with emotion, and held him so tight that Burt almost feared for the smaller man's air supply._

"_Yes! Of course, I'll marry you! Yes!" they heard Kurt exclaiming, his excitement too big for him to contain._

_Blaine put the silvery band on Kurt's finger and cupped his head with his hands, kissing Kurt passionately._

"_Um…" I think Kurt said yes," Burt mumbled, not really wanting to watch anymore. There was no way he would ever feel comfortable watching is son being kissed within an inch of his life. "I'm gonna… um… grab the camera. I'm sure Kurt will want to take a picture of this moment._

That had been three years ago. The boys had come home for Thanksgiving and, when Blaine asked Burt if he could talk to him in private, he looked so serious that Burt thought there was something wrong. The poor young man had stuttered so much that Burt had trouble understanding him, but in the end he got the message and gave Blaine his blessing. The guy was like a son to him anyway, and Burt couldn't ask for someone better to be Kurt's husband.

Burt loved Kurt more than his own life, and knowing his son was married and happy, living in New York like he's always dreamed, made him feel… accomplished. Like he had done something right in his life, although everything Burt had ever done was… he'd been there for Kurt. Lots of gay boys didn't have even that. So yeah, knowing Kurt was happy made Burt feel happy too.

His eyes traveled to the picture of Kurt's wedding day. He'd never seen his son so happy in his life. Burt had tried valiantly to keep from crying, but when Blaine said his vows, Burt gave up and let the tears run free. Everyone was already crying anyway. From Kurt and Blaine to Blaine's father – although the man would deny, if asked.

"_Dad, I'm nervous."_

"_Of course you are. It's your wedding day," Burt said, rolling his eyes. He had already calmed Blaine earlier._

"_No, I mean…" Kurt put his hand on his chest. "Oh my Gaga. I'm not sure – "_

"_What, Kurt?"_

"_You have no idea, Dad. I leave the towels on the floor and Blaine _hates _that. I spend too much time on my moisturizing routine, and sometimes when I go to bed, Blaine is already sleeping. I – I bring work home on weekends, and I always forget to do the dishes when it's my turn, and I forget the lights on and I've already stolen three of his drawers for my scarves and – "_

"_Hey." Burt cupped his son's face. "Stop that. You've been living together for years. Blaine is more than used to your habits."_

"_But Dad, what if he gets tired of me one day? What if he gets _bored_?"_

"_Are you insane? That guy loves you so much that he almost had a panic attack this morning, saying he's not good enough for you."_

"_That's crazy," Kurt deadpanned. "Blaine's perfect."_

"_That's what he was saying. That you're too perfect and he's just an ordinary guy, how is he going to make you happy and yada yadda yadda…"_

"_Nonsense," Kurt said. "I couldn't be happier. Blaine is… he's _everything_, Dad. Everything."_

"_I know you love him, kiddo. And you have no idea how happy I am that you're marrying the guy of your dreams."_

"_I am. I really am." Kurt stopped, and his eyes were suddenly huge, as if he's just realized something. "Oh my. I'm getting married."_

"_In a few minutes, buddy."_

_Kurt sat down, breathing fast. "Oh."_

"_Don't tell me you're having cold feet."_

"_It's just that… I want to make him happy, Dad. So much."_

"_You already do, Kurt. You already do."_

_So, when Blaine said "I've been looking for you forever" and Kurt started crying, Burt looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears. But then Blaine said he wanted to grow old with Kurt and… crap, a man can't hear that and not know his son is loved, can he? What more could Burt want for Kurt than to be loved by the guy he had loved since he'd seen him for the first time, when both were so young? So yeah, Burt just gave up and cried._

The package was still in his hands when Burt snapped out of his memories. He finally opened it. In the framed picture, Kurt and Blaine were smiling, side by side as always. The premiere of Kurt's play, two weeks ago. He and Carole had been there, of course. Kurt had been perfect, not that Burt expected anything different. Blaine was beaming, so proud that it looked like he was the one performing. He hadn't left Kurt's side, and had introduced Kurt to all his friends – all of them lawyers, like him – '_this is my husband, Kurt, he was the leading man'._

Kurt and Blaine were happy, married for almost two years now, and Burt thanked fate every day for his beautiful son and his husband and for the life they had. They had worked hard for it. They deserved all the happiness they could get. Big and wonderful things had happened to the boys, and more was yet to come. Better changes, Burt hopped. Bigger ones.

"Let me see… where I'm gonna put this thing…" he murmured to himself, holding the photo frame, looking for a place on the already completely full mantelpiece.

His phone suddenly buzzed inside his pocket. Burt looked at it, and when he saw the picture attached to the message, his eyes went huge. He fumbled with the cell phone, fingers trembling while he tried to call his son.

"K-Kurt?" he said, as soon as Kurt answered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Is this – "

"Yes, Dad," Kurt said, voice hoarse, probably from crying. "Your grand-daughter arrived."

"She's beautiful," Burt said.

"We signed the adoption papers today," Kurt explained. "Listen, I'm sending the tickets by email tonight, okay? We want you and Carole here with us as soon as possible."

"Sure, kiddo," Burt said, a smile in his voice. "How's Blaine?"

Kurt laughed happily. "Beaming like a fool. You know how he is; he won't stop cooing at her."

"I'm happy for you, buddy."

"Thanks, Dad. Listen, I have to go. Elizabeth needs to eat now and Blaine's already fed her this morning; now she's all mine. See you soon?"

"Sure, sure. Carole will be ecstatic with the news. I love you, Kurt."

"Love you too, Dad. Bye."

Burt looked once more at the picture on his phone. A small, sleeping baby, with olive skin and black hair slept on Blaine's arms, her tiny hand clutching at Kurt's finger. His grand-daughter, Elizabeth. Wow.

Burt looked again at the pictures over the mantelpiece and on the wall. His life, his family; everything that really mattered to him in this world. And now he had another person to love, another person to protect. His son had just started his own family.

Smiling, he pushed his and Carole's picture to the side and put Kurt and Blaine's one on its place. He had a lot to do. They needed more room for the baby's pictures, so there was no way that brownish sculpture-like thing was going to stay on the mantelpiece – a present from Carole's mother; she had terrible taste, the poor woman – and the old frames would need to be replaced soon. Maybe he should paint the wall a little? Or build a bigger mantelpiece?

"Carole!" Burt bellowed. "We're grandparents!"

And he went upstairs to wake up his wife, a new spring in his step.

**The end**


End file.
